The Fire Secret
by SpiritualEnergy
Summary: It held no secrets from him. [Brooklyncentric]


**Title: **_The Fire Secret_

**Fandom: **Bakuten Shoot Beyblade

**Rating: **G (PG)

**Pairing: **None

**Words: **833

**Summary: **It held no secrets from him.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Beyblade.

**Author's Notes: **To start off summer. Yes, slightly strange, but I wanted to try out something new. Brooklyn seemed like a challenge, so I gave this a try. Tell me what you think of it if you want.

**The Fire Secret**

He had never been so afraid before. But that was silly. What was fear? How did he know it was fear? It was nothing. Absolutely nothing. His mind was playing tricks on him again, and even he knew it.

He knew because he was never wrong, or weak, or vulnerable, or _wrong. _He was never wrong, because he could see _everything. _Because it told him. It told him everything. It told him when he was sad, when he was powerful, and when he was right.

And it always told him that he was right. That he was a genius. That he was brilliant, and that he didn't need anything except his own mind. Because his mind held everything. Every secret. Every word. Every win. Every loss. Every kindle that had ever been in anything. Because he was a genius, and he knew everything.

So what was his mind doing? It was laughing. It wasn't laughing at _him_, though. It never laughed at him. It _soothed _him. It cuddled him and comforted him and told him things he knew was right.

Because he was always right. Because his mind said so. And his mind held everything, because he was a genius that didn't need anything except his knowledge.

He was better than them, and they knew it.

He always _knew _it.

He always _saw _it.

It was never complicated, and never had to be explained, because his mind always told him, and it always told him _right. _He was never wrong, because he simply knew it.

It was a fact.

The fact was – and he knew it, because he had always proved it – that he was perfect. He knew what would happen, because he knew it was what his mind told him.

Fire was wrong. It held no secrets from him, because he could see every secret it ever held. So it tried to burn him. It tried to burn him, and get rid of his mind, and tried to put light into where he wanted it to remain dark. Because the dark whispered to him. It soothed him. It was never _wrong._

The fire was wrong, and it held no secrets. He had beaten it once, and he had beaten it again.

So it was wrong. He knew that his talent was special (_it isn't talent), _he knew he was right (_You aren't right_), he knew it was wrong (_I'm right_), and he knew he had beaten it (_I've beaten you_). So what did it have to say? Nothing. Always nothing. And yet it thought it was right?

He was perfect in every way, and the fire knew it. It _knew _it. It had no secrets, because he could see it. So it wasn't a secret. Because he knew. And a secret wasn't a secret when someone knew.

It knew it, it saw it, it smelled it, it felt it, but it didn't _get _it.

_I get it._

No, it didn't.

_You're afraid._

He wasn't afraid.

_You don't know my secret._

Yes, he knew everything.

_No, you don't._

He did.

_Why are you trembling?_

Because he was so, so cold.

_You are afraid, because you don't know what I'm thinking._

No.

_Yes. And I know what you're thinking._

No, it didn't.

_But it's okay. You don't know everything. _

Yes, he did. He does.

_You weren't taught any other way. But it's okay._

It's _not _okay.

_It is. Because I get it. I have a secret._

No, it didn't. He already knew it.

_You don't know everything. You are wrong. I am right._

It knew nothing.

_I know everything. And you don't know my secret. _

He knew the secret.

_You don't._

Shut up.

_I didn't say anything._

…_)…(…_

And then the blade was in front of his face. And he could see the anger. Because he knew the secret. He knew everything.

_...)…(…_

_It's okay. _

It made no sense.

_It makes plenty sense._

…_)…(…_

And he could feel wings sprout from his back.

…_)…(…_

_It's my secret. _

And he needed to fly.

_And you know it._

He needed to fight, because he knew everything.

_You don't know everything. You don't have to be perfect._

Huh?

_And now you know my secret. _

…_)…(…_

The wings disappear, and he floats slowly to the ground that awaits his fall, because it knows the King of Darkness needs support, and the wind – the same wind that defeated him – helps him to float, because he no longer has wings. Because they were taken away. By the secret. The fire had a secret. And it stands atop the tall cliff, and watches when he reaches the bottom.

_What a secret._


End file.
